


Quarantined

by remesy



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Animal Crossing References, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Post-High School, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24139624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remesy/pseuds/remesy
Summary: As the entire world submerges under quarantine, Sanji’s only concern is food, cigarettes, and his green haired roommate.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 11
Kudos: 203





	Quarantined

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone is well and healthy, safe from the comfort of their homes. I am trapped in my apartment with a roommate in NYC, so this idea is reflected from my own life. This is a lighthearted fic during these difficult times, and I hope it brings a temporary relief to your boredom and inspiration to play some Animal Crossing xD

It was a gradual process, as everybody already knows. First, it was the news about the virus spreading in another country. Seemed like distant news, as unreal as watching a movie on the television. Then, it spread to another country. He didn't let it bother him as it wasn't happening around him yet, but it was  beginning to be unnerving as it inched closer and closer to where he lived. He didn’t think it would blow up all of a sudden, for hundreds of people to be infected in a single day, but it did, and the restaurant he devoted half of his life to closed down for health measures and to abide by the law. 

To be specific, Zeff’s exact words were: “Stay home, Eggplant, and don’t come to see me until this shit is over.” 

The problem was, his home didn’t just belong to him, though he wished it did. He  _ wished _ that he didn’t have to come see a stupid green haired bastard every single night after a long ass shift from Baratie, to hear comments like: “You look like hell, Curly” or “Can you cook something, I’m hungry” at two in the fucking morning. 

“Who do I look like to you, your shitty butler? Make it your goddamn self,” he would irately respond, then what’d usually follow his biting comment would be: “I let you live here for free, shitty cook, you  _ are _ my butler.” 

Cursing and screaming internally, Sanji would tie the knot of his apron around his back and cook the bastard a delicious meal. 

Of course there was a part of him that wanted to burn or spit in his food but an ingrained chef’s code in the back of Sanji's mind rebutted his every attempt— _ and yes _ , he had tried quite a few times. 

There were times when he questioned his roommate who seemed to be widely awake during ungodly hours and dozing off in the afternoons. He arrived to the conclusion that he was doing this on purpose. It would only make sense that this man is purposely trying to make his life more miserable. Why on earth would he be playing video games until he comes home then set an alarm clock to see him off three hours later??? It just didn’t make any sense. 

On a casual day, he would avoid coming home with the excuse of work or stroll around the city for a breath of fresh air, but neither were plausible as staying quarantined became a necessity by the governor himself. 

“We have to stock up,” the cook demands of his roommate on the first day of their lock down. “Get your keys, we have to go to Costco.” 

He had an entire ingredients list in his head and the meal plans planned out for the next few weeks. Nutrition was the key and given that their refrigerator was standard in size, he knew that he would have to eventually resort to vitamin pills and frozen vegetables. 

“Wait, no, it’s the left… Left! Left! Why are you turning right? Do you not know your left from right?” he screams to the man in the driver’s seat, who has a chronic habit of getting lost, currently gritting his teeth from a directional frustration. 

“Shut up, Cook! I’m trying to concentrate!” the green haired man responds as he takes another right.

“That’s a fucking U-turn, you idiot, now we’re just back to where we began. At this rate, this five minute ride will become three hours.” He didn’t mean to be so goddamn edgy, but they were in a time of crisis! Every nerve in his body was screaming for his fresh produce, toilet paper, and cigarettes; things that were probably flying off the rack with each second he took a right instead of a left. 

After what seemed to be a decade, they finally reach the chaotic environment and Sanji manages to grab everything on his list until both of his carts are filled to the brink. 

“Oi, do we really need three toilet paper packs?” the green haired man complains, boring his eyes into the blond’s own and glancing at everybody else around them who were panic buying the shit out of the entire place. 

“I guess two is enough,” Sanji agrees. 

“You know what else we need?” he suddenly speaks up with a wide, catlike grin that only spelled mischievous. 

“What?” His cart was filled with a month worth of supplies for the two of them. What could he have missed? 

“A Nintendo switch,” the man suggests in all seriousness beneath his casual demeanor.

“ _ What _ ?” he screeches with an incredulous expression. “You call that a fucking necessity during times of crisis?” 

The green haired man shrugs. “Suit yourself, I’m getting myself one and Animal Crossing. Don’t come crying to me when you’re bored out of your mind.” 

As he begins to walk away, Sanji quickly reconsiders his disposition in the matter and shouts after him: “Don’t forget to grab  _ Mario Party _ !” 

The green haired man’s walking figure gives a slight thumbs up, and Sanji watches — _ no _ , simply examines his ripped, muscular backside as Zoro wanders into the children’s section on the left instead of the electronics section on the right. 

_ What is wrong with this guy?! _ he wonders with a slap of his forehead.

With two full carts that he had to guard, he is helplessly rooted to his spot and watches as the green haired idiot strolls into section by section, passing by workers in vests, scratching his head in confusion when the electronic section is just a few feet away from him. 

Sanji wanted to rip his hair out watching him, but decides that he would take advantage of being alone to collect himself. 

He has a few weeks, maybe months, in front of him. Alone with the green haired man, whom he has been avoiding since day one of moving in. They’d never really spent an entire day together, never mind a week or a month; and he’s never wanted to, as a few seconds with the man was enough to give him cancer.  To be fair, he didn’t know the guy too well. Zoro, his name was, though he’s never called him by his name.  Jackass, mosshead, marimo, cactushead…seems to do it just fine for him. He was just a mutual friend of Luffy’s, someone Sanji’s gone to high school with but never had the chance, nor the will, to converse with. 

Right before he moved in with Zoro, his life had been in shambles. He was fired from his old job, an upgrade from Baratie where he was closely taught under a renowned chef: Ed Brusfeno, because he disagreed too much with Ed’s controlling nature and demanded creative freedom. His girlfriend broke up with him. A beautiful Italian chick named Viola, introduced through Nami, one of his best friends. She told him that although he was attentive to her needs, he was never there for her when she actually needed him; always so occupied with his career and the rest of his friends, who, she accused, were his actual priorities. Most of all, she concluded, he didn’t satisfy her sexual needs. 

“We never have sex anymore!” she declared was the final root of their problems. “You’re clearly not attracted to me anymore, Sanji, and we know that it’s not your libido that’s the problem.” 

It was true that he had no problem getting it up when he stroked himself, but every time he tried to have sex with Viola, without fail and as if by command, he found himself limp and utterly flaccid—which was a huge blow to his huge man ego. 

He had settled on the idea of moving back in with Zeff and taking up his old job at Baratie when Luffy hit him up with: “Zoro’s looking for a roommate,” followed by a sly smiley emoji that seemed mischievous in nature. “I don’t think I’ll have money until summer, Luffy,” he texted back with a sigh. Student loans were a bitch and culinary arts schools were hell of an expense that he had initially hoped to make up with a prestigious job, not with minimum wage paid by his shitty father. “Don’t worry, Zoro just wants company and food. He said he doesn’t mind if you can’t pay him until summer.” 

There was an incredulous part of him that shouted  _ serial killer _ , but that was quickly overshadowed by the elation over not having to move back with Zeff. “I’ll take it,” he quickly texted Luffy back and thought about how his luck was finally turning around. 

_ I’d have to properly thank him _ , he thought to himself. 

The day the two met and was properly introduced by Luffy was when Sanji moved into Zoro’s two bedroom apartment on the fourth floor. Zoro had given the straw hat boy his apartment keys as he had to be at work during the blond’s time of arrival. They moved all of Sanji’s furniture and boxes inside the empty apartment that had a few Japanese decor from here and there. A bamboo tree, tatami mat in the living room, and a futon in lieu of a bed in his room. He felt a sense of relief as his furniture filled the blank spaces in between the apartment and created a perfect harmony; a feeling completion. 

By the time dinner rolled around, Sanji had already done the most to set up the table and was waiting for Zoro to eat. A Japanese guy, so he had set up the most traditional table of miso soup, grilled salmon, natto, rolled omelette, a slightly seasoned salad, and steaming rice with a pickled plum in the middle. 

Luffy sat in the corner with a pout, eyeing their food like a dog waiting for his chance to pounce. 

When the apartment door clacked open, Sanji jumped in place to see the green haired man intertwined by mouth by another man who was about the same height as him. The door swung open and the first sight was the goddamn tents in their pants and their fervent swirl of tongues. 

“Zoro! You’re home!” the straw hat boy ran over to his friend with a smile on his face, clearly unbothered by the other guy. 

The green haired man pulled away from the kiss to realize that Luffy was in front of him and glanced at Sanji in the corner of his living room. Confusion at first then a quick realization replacing his expression, “ _ Oh _ , today’s the day he was supposed to move in?” 

In a quick attempt to have some semblance of order, Sanji stood from where he was and walked over to give a proper introduction of himself. He was bothered, of course, by the apparent erections in their pants but he was a gentleman of firstclass. “Hey, I’m Sanji, thank you for agreeing to let me stay here. I’ve made dinner for all of us. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll set up a table for your friend as well.” 

The green haired man frowned at this gesture as though Sanji had let out a loud fart instead, and stared at his friend who seemed confused by the situation as well. 

“Sure, give us a second,” he told Sanji as he led the way to his own bedroom and closed the door shut. 

“What the  _ fuck _ , Luffy!” he quietly screeched under his breath and his friend gave him a small shrug, punching the buttons of the television remote to play music over their  _ loud  _ and  _ aggressive _ lovemaking. 

That shameless fucker didn’t hold back one bit knowing his friends were right outside in his living room! 

By the time they were done, Sanji’s face had become bright red and at a complete loss for his apetite, sitting on the couch with Luffy dancing to the music video in front of him. Zoro came out without a shirt on, dripping with sweat and an utterly satiated smile hanging on his lips; while his friend made a quick getaway with a small goodbye gesture to Sanji and Luffy. 

“I’m starving,” the man made his way to the dinner table with a small stretch of his arms, without bothering to put a damn shirt on, or asking how the move in was or whether he was  _ too fucking loud while having sex _ . 

_ He’s a brute _ , Sanji concluded with a pulsing headache and remnant of heat in his body from the sound of their wanton cries. 

“What are you standing around for, dumb ass? Let’s get on the line,” that same brute demands as he'd miraculously found his way back to Sanji with a Nintendo switch box in his hand and three games on top. 

The blond, snapping out of his memories, raises a brow at the same man standing in front of him, “What else did you get?” 

“Legend of Zelda,” he responds with a small smirk. “Couldn’t help it, it’s my childhood.” 

“Whatever, just help me push the other cart so we can get on the line.” 

The line was insanely crowded with people, who had piles and piles of necessary but also unnecessary things stuffed into their multitude of carts. The workers were in a panic, as they were clearly understaffed and thrust into a situation they had never been in before. The two men waits for at least an hour or so, shifting inch by inch, before being able to self check out; and the line behind them has not shortened but only doubled by the time they're done. 

They bring the grocery bags into the car and take the elevator up to their apartment. One good thing Sanji found about Zoro was that he had the same capacity as a pack mule, able to carry dozens of bags without any complaint or signs of strain. 

Usually it was Sanji who handled the grocery shopping and cooking while Zoro handled cleaning and doing the dishes. There was a system in place for the two of them, and the blond realized this while they were silently handing each other the groceries and arranging the cabinets and refrigerator. 

“Hold up… what the hell is this?” the green haired man breaks that placid moment, holding up a plastic bag to his face. 

“My fifty packs of cigs, duh.” His worst nightmare would be running out of nicotine during this quarantine.

“And you wouldn’t let me have a single pack of oreos, you fucking cheapskate,” Zoro complains with a pout. 

He smirks, “Stupid, I did get it for you.” 

The green haired man gives him the most doubtful and incredulous stare before digging through the bags, to eventually find double stuffed oreos in the midst; and despite his usually rigid demeanor, his expression breaks into a smile.

“Fuck yeah!” he celebrates. 

It wasn’t all that bad between them, Sanji admits, as much as he hated acknowleding that Zoro is actually a decent guy. His pocket vibrates after he'd cleared away the rest of the groceries, and he checks his phone to see texts from Luffy: 

_ Luffy: Can I cum over today :(  _

_ Sanji: No _

Leaving his phone to the side, he begins to prepare for dinner as Zoro focuses on setting up the Nintendo Switch. 

Sanji thought about their horrible first interaction. How turned off he’d been to the idea of befriending Zoro after hearing his aggressive lovemaking to another  _ man. _

“Oi, Curly, I hooked up the Switch to the TV,” the said green haired man walks into the kitchen to grab a glass of orange juice. “What are you making? Give me a taste,” he invades the cook’s private space with an opened mouth. 

“Shoo, go away,” Sanji swats Zoro’s hands creeping up on his pad thai. “Wait till it’s done, you brute.” 

“You suck,” he says with a frown. “By the way, did you get a text from Luffy?” 

“He asked if he could come over and I told him no, Why?” Sanji finishes up the dish with crumbs of peanuts and slices of lime on the side, tucking the little shrimp summer rolls next to the noodles.

The green haired man gives him a mischievous smile, “He told me he’s inviting a couple of friends and his brother, Ace... And given the opportunity, I wanted a final bang before the quarantine starts. So, how about it? Maybe you could get laid too, since it seem like you haven’t gotten some in awhile.” 

Sanji’s attention is abruptly snagged away. “WHAT! You’re willing to risk our health for the sake of a final  _ fuck _ ??!!”  And when the comment about his dry period sinks in, Sanji’s face turns beet red. 

How does this bastard know? 

The grin on Zoro’s face became wider. Playful and taunting, drawing his words out slowly in leisure and the mischievous swivel of his eyebrows driving Sanji to the peak of his sanity. 

“You smell like a virgin,” he says, _again_ , and a bubble of laughter follows his words.

“I’m NOT a virgin, you asshole!” Sanji flares. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of beautiful women I’ve slept with.” Other than Viola there was one other girl from high school, but the mosshead didn’t need to know that. 

The green haired man’s expression suddenly deepens; a lick of his lips, eyelids lowered, and grin subdued into one of seriousness. He closes up on Sanji’s private space with an aura similar to a tidal wave, engulfing the blond so quickly that he had submerged underneath without any resistance. “I could teach you a thing or two if you ever want,” he whispers, voice dripping with allure and seduction. “ _ Little virgin _ .” 

But just as quickly as Zoro closed up on him, he pulls back and laughs in the face of Sanji’s gaping mouth and openly shocked expression. 

His mind frozen. His heart beating, leaping, exploding irrationally and uncontrollably, and his first reaction was to aim a kick toward his crotch, which Zoro was able to easily evade. 

“You —You— _ Bastard _ !  What the flying  _ fuck _ was  _ that _ ?!” he screams, his face redder than before if that was even possible.

The man in front of him was still caught up in his laughter, “I can’t help it, you’re so easy to mess with.” 

His chest was still beating madly, adrenaline coursing and blood rushing to his head. “Fuck you!” he curses, emotions going haywire. What the fuck? What the  _ fuck _ ? 

“If you’re going to act like  _ that _ , just have your final fuck, you horny bitch,” Sanji kicks the mosshead in the stomach as he carries out the plates of pad thai to the living room.

He had to collect himself,  _ quickly _ , because it wasn’t like he could do his usual thing and take a break outside the apartment. He didn’t even know why Zoro got to him so effortlessly, even though he knew the stupid moss was just kidding around.

“I’ll call Luffy right now,” Zoro tells him with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Tell them to eat before coming here. Luffy’s going to devour our quarantine rations,” the blond grumbles as his mind wanders into a cigarette he could be smoking instead. “And no more than three people we know,” he adds another condition. 

“Okay,  _ okay _ , but I’m going to make sure Ace is one of them,” he adds his own condition with another grin, clearly elated by the idea of having his final bang. “Or Law. Either one is fine with me...” the green haired man trails off with a dazed look on his face.

But to his unfortunate surprise, later that night Luffy pulls up with Usopp, Brook, and Chopper instead of Ace or Law. 

“Ace couldn’t make it!” Luffy defends himself when Zoro threatens to strangle him. “He told me that he’s going to Marco’s country house, far away from the city for the quarantine.” 

The green haired man growls in displeasure then settles into a small sigh of acceptance, as the rest of their mutual friends cheers over their newly bought Nintendo Switch and fights for the two controllers. 

Sanji gloats to his dispirited roommate, rubbing it in his face with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Don’t move them too much like that, I’m getting dizzy just by looking at them,” the damn bastard retorts, referring to his curled eyebrows that he had been born with. 

The blond’s expression switches from a smile to a frown instantaneously, and upon that sight Zoro’s own mood lightens up like the asshole he is. Sanji lightly punches the hard muscles of Zoro’s arm in a semi-playful but also semi- _ I want to put this bastard in his place  _ way. 

The conversation falls to an end as they become caught up in Luffy and Usopp’s world of  _ Animal Crossing. _ They refer to Chopper as the raccoon character named Tom Nook in the game and cackle while clutching their bellies, and the little brown haired guy retorts with the motion to bite them. Sanji sits next to his roommate while smoking a cigarette, as Zoro drinks a bottle of sake; the two of them expressing their vices in ways that’s been familiar to them at a young age. 

A few weeks, and possibly  _ months _ , ahead of them; and the most frustrating part about Zoro for Sanji is reflected by the first night of moving into the apartment. 

After Luffy left, the dinner was eaten and plates were cleaned, the two of them took a shower without much exchange of words in between, and after Zoro had hit the hay in his room, Sanji laid awake in his bed with the images of his green haired roommate and the stranger he’d brought earlier with a fucking hard on in his sweatpants. It was so erect and bulging that he almost came at the first tug of his masturbation. With Viola completely wiped out of his mind, or any women in fact, he recalled the powerful moans and groans of the two men from the other side of the wall, and the effortless climax overtook him whole and drowned him in his own semen—quite literally, as the sticky fluid covered his entire hand. 

_ Help me, god _ , he groans in his head when he remembers his consecutive nights of sexual deprivation, fondling himself to the images of Zoro. 

Without a way to escape this house, Sanji’s only alleviation are the mountainous piles of cigarettes in the closet and he only hoped, clandestinely, that Zoro would crack under the pressure of this quarantine. 

* * *

Zoro didn’t know what to make of Sanji. 

Contrary to the idiot’s belief, they had actually met and conversed once in high school. The dumb ass was drunk out of his mind at Ace’s party when he stumbled into the bathroom, where Zoro was caught making out with one of his oldest friends, Robin. This was during a confusing pubertal age when he couldn’t fully admit his sexual preference toward men, and he made drunken mistakes one after another with different women. 

“ _ Wha _ —the fug?” the blond idiot with his discolored red face spoke when he barged in on them, with Zoro’s hand massaging the side of Robin’s waist. “Who’s dis idiot,” he slurred, pointing a finger at the green haired boy in front of me. 

Boldly, which was quite the statement as no one else would have had the guts to do this, Sanji pulled Robin away from Zoro and placed her hand in his warm grasp. “You are Beuutiful, my Robin swann, and he is fugging trashh. You deserve better,” he told her earnestly in his drunken fervor and half closed eyelids.

On a normal day he might’ve beat the drunk guy up for reckless behaviors like this, but he took pity on the stupid blond that night. 

“I’ll take him to Ace’s room, Robin,” he told her as he brought Sanji’s body close to his own, wrapping his arms around the muscular man’s waist; a feeling that was vastly different from the slender and narrow curve of a woman’s. 

“Okay, but make sure to take care of him, Zoro. He’s one of Luffy’s closest friends. I’ll be downstairs,” she gave him a small, all knowing smile (a trademark of hers) before walking out of the bathroom. 

Zoro groaned. 

What a bummer to be stuck with a drunk asshole who ruined the rest of his night.

“HEY!” Sanji slurred. “Where’s the… pretty girl? And where am I going?” he asked as Zoro dragged his skinny ass down the hallway and into Ace’s bedroom. 

“To Ace’s room. You need to lay down,” Zoro murmured as he helped the blond climb into the bed. As Ace was away for college, the room was pretty barren and stripped of any characters. A few boxes on the side and a skateboard with a firebug as its design. 

To his frustrations, though, Sanji was relentless in his resistance. “Get. Off. Me!” he shouted in syllables, unable to formulate a string of thought in the fog of his drunken state. 

He felt the veins in his head popping. 

Annoyance maxing out as the blond kept his attempts of getting up and pushing Zoro away; and so, in a haste and somewhat irrational response he decided to pin Sanji down to the bed. Hands grabbing the wrists, knees pinning down those surprisingly powerful waists, and legs wrapped around those bare and hairy legs of the man underneath. It was summertime and they were both wearing shorts. 

“Keep still,” Zoro softly whispered, afraid that someone would walk in to catch them in such indescent position. 

Upon closer inspection, the man beneath him had a disheveled appearance of messy blond hair and flushed skin. Piercing blue eyes that seemed to resemble the reflection of the waters on the sky and puckered lips that had a darker tint than his skin. 

“Why—” he asked all of a sudden, without any resistance. “—are you on top, Zoro?” 

His grip loosened in surprise from the fact that Sanji called him by his name. “You know me?”

“Luffy’s friend,” he responded intelligibly enough, enough to fool Zoro that he’s sober. “Always with different girls.” 

It was a funny situation, to be having a conversation with a man whom he’d just met while pinning him against the bed. He chuckled in response to Sanji and the situation, “Yeah, so what? Are you jealous?” 

The blond frowned. “Piece. Of. shit.” 

Zoro growled, tightening his grip on the man’s arms and legs, “I’m taking care of you right now, asshole.” 

Sanji scoffed with a roll of his eyes, which said a lot more than words could; and to be fair, pinning him down wasn’t much of a care but at least he can say that he tried. 

He closed his eyes, heat emanating off of him. “So drunk,” he murmured. His hot, calloused hand clutching Zoro by the arm. “Home, I have to go.” 

“I know.” 

He was surprised to find himself no longer annoyed with the blond’s drunk ass, rather, he was relieved that he wasn’t trying to prove a point by boning one of his closest friends. Sure, he and Robin made out from time to time in a drunken spontaneity but never did they think about taking things further; and he didn’t want to. 

Zoro helped the blond up by first getting off of him, and he halfheartedly thought about carrying him in his arms but quickly changed his mind when he was reminded of the party happening downstairs. So, he threw the blond’s lanky arm around his neck and helped him walk on his own feet, which was quite successful as he was no longer fighting against him. 

When they made their way down, Robin and Luffy made their way to them with concerned looks on their faces. 

“Is he okay?” 

“Woah, he’s so red! Are you going to take him home, Zoro?” the raven haired boy asked with wide eyes, poking around noisily to observe the blond’s slumped head that now leaned on Zoro’s shoulder. 

Still conscious enough to understand their words, Sanji murmured, “I’m fine.” 

“I’m just going to take him home. See you guys tomorrow,” he told them with a small dismissive nod, tugging the blond’s curling body upright again. “Blondie, we have to take your car. I came with Robin earlier. Where’s your keys?” 

His eyes were closed, but he responded, “My pocket.” 

Using his free hand, Zoro dug his fingers into the deep pockets of Sanji’s. Curiously, because as he said, this was a confusing time for him. He felt the drunk blond up while pretending to look for his keys. A body that was so different from a woman’s, surprised to find that Sanji’s was lean and muscular, enough to believe that he was as strong as Zoro; his legs, that is. There was a powerful and ecstatic feeling in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time, not even in sex with a beautiful girl; imagining those legs of Sanji’s in bed and dirtying this pristine asshole he saw everyday at school with a few whispers in his ears.

His fingertips felt the hard surface of a square frame, which he recognized as the car key. 

Zoro cautiously slipped his hands out, ready to be called out for his harrassments by Sanji, but the blond had nearly passed out, his head rolling enough for his nose to be buried into Zoro's neck. 

Quietly, Zoro helped the blond man into the passenger seat of his own car and drove them away from Ace and Luffy’s home. Luffy texted him Sanji’s address so he was able to easily find Sanji’s home—which, in Zoro’s world meant less than an hour. A restaurant called Baratie. 

Often in his drive he looked to the side to see the passed out blond, remembering how he would appear in daylight. Sanji was so handsome and carried himself with a sort of elegance that was odd for a high school kid. Always wore his hair to the left and was never underdressed. He had his life together, or it seemed. Zoro often caught him smoking a cigarette right after class, and a draft of nicotine would follow his footsteps. He often fidgeted in place and tapped his pencil impatiently right before class ended. Sanji had a foul mouth and didn’t hesitate to speak up in an argument, which was probably why some kids were terrified of him as they simultaneously felt the same about Zoro. 

“Oi, shithead,” he called out to the sleeping beauty by his side. “You’re here. I’m going to leave one of your doors open and your keys in here, okay?” 

“ _ Nngh _ —” he responded.

Luckily, to his favor the blond had stirred awake just in time when he pulled up on the curb of the restaurant; and with enough senses, except to realize who had dropped him off, waltzed inside Baratie without any help.

The next day, without much of a thanks or even a single recognition the shitty blond asshole carried on with the rest of his high school days without a glance toward Zoro’s way. 

To think that the green haired man had waited in front of Baratie for almost two hours that night for Robin to pick him up made him feel annoyed again. 

But he realized something that simultaneously disturbed and relieved him—that, the same asshole who ignored his existence everyday was the only person he thought about; but of course, naturally, he believed Sanji was straight. He drooled all over women and made gooey romantic gestures in public, while giving cold shoulders to other men.

It was a lost cause and he realized this completely. Despite his sexual endeavors with women completely stopping after that night, it picked right back up with men in college. He never fell in love, because it just wasn’t what he was about. He was a rational man, enough to keep his sexual fervors separate from his emotions.

And when Luffy asked him if Sanji could be his roommate, Zoro was in bed with a man he’d just met on Grindr. 

He felt something he hadn’t in years, as the memory of Sanji barging in on him with Robin made him chuckle to himself. 

“Sure, why the hell not,” he texted back.

First day with the blond was hilarious, as his expression was pure discomfort and utter shock when Zoro walked out of his bedroom with his one-night stand. It was as though the prissy cook hadn’t had a single good lay in his entire life—and more than anything, Zoro wanted to show Sanji how to loosen up  _ properly _ , without the need of cigarettes or masturbation (yes, he heard him through the thin walls).

He groans.  _ Too bad he’s straight _ .

After flirtation after another, he was frustrated to find that the blond was resisting his approaches and swerving them left and right. When they watched movies at night, Sanji would fall asleep and lean on his shoulder; a sucker for romance and action films but terribly bad with any other genres. He was always so tired, as he worked himself to the bone until his body and mind couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Zoro found himself yearning for things he had never felt in the past with Sanji, to simply put his arm around him or to touch his hair that became slightly out of place when he leaned on him. He still had his feelings of lust, to rip his stupid armani white shirt open and suck those pink nipples of his until he begged Zoro to stop, but it was more than that. He never cared much for his one-night stands to say his name, or much of them in general outside of sex, but Sanji— _ god _ , he worshipped their time together. He even did stupid things like setting up his alarm clock at six in the morning so they could spend ten minutes together and stayed up until four just to hear about the blond’s day. 

_ If only he was gay _ , he thought. _ I can seduce him easily.  _

He wanted to make love to Sanji—slow, raw, doggystyle, missionary—it didn’t fucking matter, but afterwards he wanted to cuddle with him and talk and argue as they always did, and  _ laugh _ like he never did with anybody else. 

“You’re playing Animal Crossing again?” the said blond comes out of the shower, heat emanating from his body like the night he had gotten drunk. He comes and comfortably sits next to Zoro, smelling of citrus and pines. 

“I have to strip this island of its resources everyday.”

Sanji laughs, “It’s not that serious, you loser. You’re in a goddamn island with raccoons and a stupid looking robot chicken.” 

The green haired smirks at the comment, “ _ Oh _ , I thought that was you in the game, my bad. He got the same haircut as you.” 

“What!? How does that  _ thing _ look like me, you asshole,” he screeches, taking the bait as he always did. 

They were two weeks into the quarantine and the blond was losing his mind little by little. Cleaning up the house, rearranging furniture, taking up a new hobby like making drinks (which wasn’t so bad on Zoro’s end), and bothering Zoro whenever he had nothing more to do. He smoked almost a pack a day to calm his nerves, the overabundant, flowing pool of energy that he usually used up at work. He began odd projects like gardening and home decorations, anything to get his body moving, while Zoro stuck to his usual routine of working out during the day, napping, meditating, and playing games. They often video chatted their friends, Zoom group calls to catch up each others’ lives, finding that one other person suffering more than Sanji was undoubtedly Luffy, who was basically dying of boredom as he was fed a regular person’s portion every meal instead of his usual amount that fed an army. 

It was a hard time for most of them, but Robin, Chopper, Brooke, and Usopp were doing exceptionally well as they finally had the time to read, study, play music, and build odd innovative mechanics. 

Sanji began to join Zoro on his workouts and meditations, though he often ruined Zoro’s concentration with his fidgets and grunts, and every humanly possible noises that screamed of an undisciplined mind. 

He was so fucking annoying but the reason why he didn’t kick Sanji off was because of their ritualistic naps that followed afterwards; lying next to one another on the mat and bathing in the sun pouring in from their large windows. 

The blond fell asleep quickly and so suddenly, his breath deepened and his chest rose and fell slowly. Only then would Zoro reach over carefully and bring himself closer to the other man’s body, feeling his heartbeat loud enough to wake up the sleeping man, fearing yet also hoping for the moment for Sanji’s eyes to fling open and meet his own. 

Sometimes he dared to lightly feel up the man’s smaller frame. The hard muscles that he never flaunted, calluses on his palms, and hard nipples that were so sensitive to the lightest touch. He binged on these moments, sucking on the last bit of juice from a honeysuckle, until he himself fell asleep to wake up to an empty spot next to him. 

They never spoke of their naps.

Despite his inborn quality of shamelessness, even he didn’t bring it up. He suspected that their nap sessions would end if he did. 

* * *

Yes, he was fucking awake the entire time.

The only day he had  _ actually _ fallen asleep was the first nap they shared, and it was purely accidental on his part to pass out in the middle of their meditation. He awoke to Zoro’s arms wrapped around his waist like some sort of a zoo animal. At first, he shrugged it off as a weird sleeping habit of his, but he decided to test this theory by pretending to fall asleep, and then having the shock of a lifetime when his roommate’s body suddenly closed up on his. 

A perfectly voluntary and conscious move and Sanji had a difficult time staying still. 

Zoro’s body shifted closer, inching carefully to keep the blond asleep; a wild hand slipping below Sanji’s loose T-shirt to lightly grab onto his waist. It took all of Sanji’s willpower to repress his natural instinct to twitch and shudder, staying still so that the green haired idiot could continue to venture further to harass him. The thing was, the most irritating part despite knowing that Zoro was only messing with him, that he  _ liked _ this. The bastard was horny and bored, but Sanji was more than willing to let himself be the scratch board to itch Zoro’s urge. 

It was all a game between them; one that he didn’t know the ending to. 

They were three weeks into the quarantine and it was the same every day of the week. Rolling out of his bed at the same time he would when he used to go to work, coffee to jolt him awake, a quick breakfast for himself and Zoro (who usually woke up at ten), and a long smoke on the small balcony to watch the sunrise. By his feet were little plants that he’d been growing, green sprouts finally blooming under his loving care, and though it was something so small he felt pride in being able to nurture them into life. 

The rhythmic pulse of their every routine was the sole reason why he hasn’t thrown himself off this balcony. He waited with a book in hand every morning, stretched out lazily on the couch, until Zoro stirred awake from his bedroom. Usually in nothing but shorts, he’d have Sanji’s breakfast on top of his usual bowl of cereal. 

The man wasn’t much of a morning person, so mornings were typically silent between them. Conversations picked up when they began to work out: stretches, minor Pilates, military workouts that didn’t require any weights, and then meditation. Sanji joined Zoro’s daily routines to keep himself busy and awake, otherwise he’d be smoking until his throat is raw and dry to deal away the extra energy stored inside of him.

“Luffy told me you know some martial arts,” Sanji brings up after some stretching, feeling the man’s gaze fixated on him.  Aloof and coolly, he would always stare back at Zoro as if completely unaffected by those deep ebonic eyes of his. 

He frowned, looking away from the blond. “Well, I  _ am _ a martial arts teacher, so I hope I know some martial arts,” he remarks sarcastically. 

“Oh,” the blond dully responds. “I didn’t know that was your job.” 

“Of course you didn’t, it’s not like you’ve ever shown interest in me,” he irritably snaps, an unusual sight, as Zoro has never snapped before nor was he naturally so hot tempered like Sanji was. Perhaps he was rubbing off of him. 

“That’s some bullshit. I know  _ some _ things about you,” Sanji argues. “You’re into Japanese food and some weird 90’s samurai shows. Just because I don’t ask about your personal life doesn’t mean I’m not interested.” 

A silence follows, heavy enough for the blond to hear himself swallow. 

It gives him a chance to observe the man’s features, who stretches his limbs with furrowed brows, clearly frustrated but unable to express it fully. Sharp jawlines, high cheekbones, prominent nose bridge, voluptuous dark lips with a deep cupid’s bow arched low, and dark green hair that was beginning to show its roots of brown. His collarbones were quite visible in his V-neck shirt, showing off his impressive muscular body; the physique of a fucking Greek god, the counterpart to Aphrodite herself. 

“Well, what do you know about me then?” he challenges Zoro. 

The green haired man furrows his brows and lifts his gaze to meet Sanji’s, and to his surprise, quietly snickers as if to say ‘ _ if only you knew _ .’ But that’d be ridiculous...right?

“Chef. Womanizer. Smoking addiction. Stupid romantic…” he lists. “Want me to continue?” 

Sanji nods, genuinely curious to hear what Zoro noticed about him past the obvious. 

“Hard worker, sometimes too much to the point you’d pass out right after your shift. Tough exterior but with a soft heart, always taking care of others despite your endless bitching and whining. Passionate about food, feeding others, and has a tendency to be  _ needed _ …” he trails on and on before pausing, meeting Sanji’s warm gaze and a small smile. Zoro scratches his head nervously, which is another odd sight for a man who never seems to falter in his steps. “Luffy and Usopp told me that you quit your job and broke up with your girlfriend right before moving in with me. Why?” 

Sanji hums, pleased that the other man was actively trying to get to know him. “Well, Ed actually fired me. He didn’t like my suggestions during our morning meetings and my rebellious nature. I also wanted to donate our leftovers to the charity instead of throwing them away, but he was upset with the idea, saying that I wasn’t in any position for a decision like that. I challenged him like I believe every chef should be treated; but in the end I suppose I created more stress for him, chastising and nick picking every detail as though I was better.” 

The green haired man laughs. “Sounds like you.” 

He rolls his eyes slightly before continuing, “And Viola was my girlfriend of seven months. She broke up with me because I couldn’t put her needs before my career…”

“Is that all?” Zoro asks, and to be fair he would’ve ask the same thing to a lame excuse like that to break up with someone. 

“And, uh, I couldn’t have sex with her,” he admits honestly, shame sprouting in him, cheeks reddening. 

“ _ What _ ? Why?” 

“I don’t know. I became impotent whenever I was with her.” He wished he never brought up this embarrassing topic, because he wanted to bury himself in a hole and never come up to see daylight again.  “But I’m  _ not _ . It just happened when I was about to… you know, do it.” 

“With  _ her _ …” Zoro repeats, those deep sets of gaze settling into Sanji’s once more; his expression quite unreadable. “Wait... what if it was me?” he asks, not a trace of humor in his voice.

Sanji’s heart begins to race erratically, irrationally, uncontrollably; flickering in his vision was himself, in the quiet darkness of his room, moaning Zoro’s name. 

“Wha—” He feels a tug in the back of his head, a reminder that this was probably another joke. “You’re just trying to get in my pants, bastard,” he growls. 

Zoro’s eyes unwavering; rather, if it was even possible, they intensified. “Dude, you’re  _ gay _ ,” he declares, without any sign of mockery or judgment. “That’s why you couldn’t do it with Viola. Your body rejects women even though you put up this front that you’re a womanizer.” 

The blond’s discomfort grew, from the conclusions he drew and the way Zoro's eyes bore into him as though he’d just discovered a third eye on his face. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’ll have sex with you! I’m way too much of a romantic to detach myself from my body. _Unlike_ _you_ ,” he shoots back, trying with all his might to bring up the walls that Zoro was tearing down fast, ruthlessly, stripping him vulnerable and feeling naked. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zoro asks, almost pleading, hopelessly; another look that was foreign on his face, who’d usually appear so perfectly stoic and tough. 

Sanji felt confused by what the man was implying. 

Should he have said it sooner? What if… he thinks cautiously, afraid that the conclusion he draws would lead to a broken heart... Zoro is in love with me?

He desperately wished for this to be true. There was so much more to Zoro that he hadn’t dared to say out loud. Subtle hints of kindness in his strong and gentle hands that guided Sanji’s limbs during meditation; reliable broad shoulders that he was able to rest on in his most exhausted days; strong dedication that was reflected in his ripped muscles and compassion that shone through his hardened gaze. 

“Do you remember that party in high school at Ace’s house? The one towards the end of Junior year? You were so drunk that you completely blacked out for the rest of that night,” he brings up, face splitting into a wild grin; a nearly forgotten memory that Sanji had to dig up in his mind. 

“Oh, yeah. Usopp made me drink twelve shots of tequila that night. I didn’t know you were at the party.”

“I drove you home that night,” he enlightens him. 

“What? You did? I thought  _ I _ drove myself home,” Sanji exclaims, pointing his thumb toward himself. The last thing he remembers that night is walking up to the staircase and waking up with a terrible headache the next day at Baratie.

Zoro scoffs with a small roll of his eyes as if to say ‘Yeah, right.’ “You walked in on me and Robin in the bathroom, and your dumb ass was hanging off of me the rest of the night.”

This time it was Sanji’s turn to snort out loud, “Robin? That  _ goddess _ ? She wouldn’t give you the time of the day. Now I know this story is made up.” 

“Shut up. My balls were blue that night because of you,” Zoro retorts with a feigned frown, crossing his arms in front of his bulging bare chest—yes, for some reason the muscle brained idiot  _ loved  _ having his shirt off, not that Sanji minded in the slightest.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Sanji mocks. “Cry me a fucking river.” 

Zoro laughs, a hearty one that got the blond’s every attention. “ _ Anyways _ , asshole, I realized something that night: that I was one hundred percent, undoubtedly into dicks and not pussys.” 

The blond scrunches up his face by the reference of women as ‘pussys’ before arriving at a sudden realization. “Wait, why? Why that night?” Had he given the man a fucking blowjob or something to change his mind?

“Well,” Zoro drawls out with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Let’s just say I was pinning you down on the bed and I realized you were kind of hot.” 

“ _ What _ ?!” he screeches. “We were on a bed together?” 

“Ace’s bed, I was just trying to get you to lay down because you were being so damn resistant,” he elaborates, chuckling to himself because apparently seeing Sanji have a stroke was so damn hilarious. 

Sanji sighs loudly, relieved to know that nothing serious happened between them—yet. 

“So, what? Zoro,” he asks. They always used each others’ real names to let the other know how serious they were. “That could’ve been any guy. It just happened to be me that night.” He was tired of these games between them. The constant flirting, close body contacts, lingering stares, and the undeniable sexual tension that was thick enough to suffocate him.

Sanji relishes in the thrill of having the man lean closer to him, his pulse accelerating as Zoro’s lingering gaze studies him—slowly, as if to savor every second; millisecond. 

“Is that what you’re so worried about?” he whispers. His voice low and deep. Husky. Sexy. “There’s no one else who makes me feel this way, Sanji. Only you and it’s always been you since that night.” His lips, dark and full, hangs over his own red and slightly bruised lips, from chewing on them so harshly. 

His heart leaps, hearing those words he’s been waiting for, feeling the man’s bigger palm brush against his cheeks. He hears the sounds of the man’s three golden earrings on his left ear, an asymmetry that has intrigued him since high school. 

It burns, the desire building up in him; haunted by those ebonic eyes boring into him.

“You’re really not shitting me?” Sanji asks, voice still filled with doubt and concern for his porous heart, and Zoro cracks up at this which brings a smile over to his own face as well. “I swear, Zoro, I will go batshit crazy, like one of those celebrities who shave their head type of crazy if you just take my fucking butt virginity and act like nothing happened!”

At this point, Zoro is wheezing with laughter. “You’re so fucking dramatic. I can’t believe I thought you were straight!” 

Before Sanji is about to bark out another aggravated response, the green haired man quickly and abruptly closes the rest of the gap and gives him a kiss, soft and polite; gentle, in the way he wouldn’t have expected from a brute like Zoro.  “We don’t have to have sex, Sanji. That’s not what this is about. Believe it or not, I’m just happy that the man I’ve been in love with for years is finally reciprocating. I don’t want to do ruin it with sex if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he coaxes with a honey coated, teeth hurting type of sweetness in his voice. 

So that’s how he gets laid, Sanji thought. And to be frank, it was working like a fucking charm. 

The blond’s previous indecisiveness had come to an abrupt halt when the meal that’s been in front of him was suddenly taken away. 

He grabs the man by the nape of his neck, roughly clenching onto those green strands between the squeeze of his fingers. “All I needed was a ‘I’m not shitting you, Sanji’,” he clarifies, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with show of humor and tease.

With a slight lick of his lips, Sanji carefully brings down the man’s face to his own and takes it slower this time, to actually savor the experience and the taste of Zoro’s long awaited lips. A satisfied hum vibrates from the green haired man who follows Sanji’s lead happily, the two men toppling over on the yoga mat; a recreation of the memory on Ace’s bed with Zoro on top, except this time Sanji isn't terribly drunk out of his mind. 

Zoro takes the invitation with ravenous eagerness, getting hard just by the sensual manner in which Sanji takes the lead. His hands roam freely, massaging Sanji’s hard abdomen and reaching, clawing to get him out of his shorts.

“So you really are a virgin,” he teases, pulling away from their kiss to stare playfully into those blue eyes. 

“Shut up,” Sanji growls in response, aggravated from their interrupted kiss and desperately wanting every inch of Zoro’s skin pressed against his flushed body, feeling the hardness in the man’s pants pressed against him. “Do you know how bad—” he groans, interrupted by the roll of Zoro’s hips against his own semi that felt suffocated with the restriction of his shorts ``—I wanted you?” Another kiss, a little more desperate, erratic, and passionate. “I came every night at the thought of you,” he confesses, seeing visibly the restraint and discipline crumbling on the green haired man’s handsome face.

“ _ Shit _ , Sanji, me too,” he whispers against his flushed skin, biting harshly the pale flesh of his neck and licking the surface apologetically. 

Usually he was a rough lover, uncaring and ruthless when it came to making his partner moan as loud as they could to make things hotter for him, but this was  _ Sanji _ . His little butt virgin who had pretended to be straight all of his life, his first love whom Zoro had ached for every night hearing those discreet, soft sighs drifting from his room.

Similar to those nights Sanji let out a gasp, except this one was unrestrained and wanton, which Zoro decided was much sexier and had his blood flowing in all the right places.

Zoro pushes the man on his back, yanking away his shorts and pressing his erection against him; an abrupt roll of his hips to draw out another wanton cry and a shiver from Sanji, who murmured with smokey cadence, “ _ Fuck me, Zoro _ .” Zoro felt the urgency in Sanji’s voice and his senses were pushed to overdrive, his hardness pressing against the fabric of his shorts; restricted, trembling, greedy with need. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of Sanji, to throw out the idea of  _ making love _ and instead plunge into him over and over to lose himself. 

Sanji took one of Zoro’s exploratory hands that innocently massaged the side of his hips, eagerly guiding him to prod a finger inside of his entrance. A mischievous glint in his eyes, encouraging Zoro to stretch and prepare him. Heavy breathing, heart pounding, legs wrapped around Zoro’s waist, he waits patiently for what’s to come. Zoro finds it difficult to believe that the source of his fantasies, the man he desperately wished was gay was right beneath waiting to be fucked by him. 

Following Sanji’s lead, he used saliva as a lube to press his fingers inside, feeling the warmth of Sanji’s body enveloping him; and the blond held his breath, excitement and fear melded into one. Eyes connected with Zoro’s, relaxing as those ebonic eyes reassured him. Viola had playfully inserted her fingers in him in the past, but it didn’t nearly feel good as Zoro’s fingers who clearly knew what he was doing. He shifts closer, tugging on Zoro’s shorts, curious to see what was underneath.

Zoro felt the impatient tugs and smirked, having more of a control over himself and the game that’s always played between them—which, naturally translated over to their sexual intercourse. He punishingly curls his fingers upwards inside of Sanji, causing the blond to curl his back, mouth agape, a violent shudder running through him. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he curses, holding back the loudest moan that had been at the tip of his tongue.  _ More, give me more _ , he wants to beg, because he was already so close to an orgasm, but that wasn’t  _ him _ . Sanji did not beg. 

Zoro removes his fingers and pulls away from Sanji’s legs that were enticingly splayed in front of him, getting up to grab some lube and condoms from his room. The blond bit his lips in anticipation as he watched Zoro come back with a condom held in front of him, stroking himself comfortably; a heavy pressure built in his groin, increasing by the minute and not disappearing completely like it had with Viola. The green haired man kicks off his shorts, rips open the condom, and covers himself with lube. All done in one quick, fluid motion. He kneels down in front of Sanji like a man of worship and kisses him gently on the forehead, positioning himself carefully in front of him. 

“Can I take your virginity, Sanji?” he teases with a small, mischievous smirk.

Silently amused by the man’s gentleness and consideration, his heart beats rapidly and body is set ablaze. The blond gives a small urging nod. 

As Zoro slowly slides himself inside, the blond releases a small hissing sound, coping with the foreign pain he’d never experienced previously. He gives another kiss on the blond’s forehead, who returns a weak smile in response, distracted by the pain of his ass. For so long, Zoro had wished for this. The feeling of Sanji’s warmth enveloping him, the smell of cigarettes from his breath, the naked pale skin dripping with sweat and his goddamn alluring voice in his ears—all overwhelming and consuming him. He settles inside of the blond’s body, who’s also comfortable with every inch of Zoro in him, before beginning to move; a small experimental pulse to draw out a pained groan, then another to leave him panting. Carefully watching every reaction, never breaking eye contact, Zoro in his restrained and disciplined movement thrusts into Sanji. 

It was painful, but the lube had helped ease Sanji’s pain and transform it into pleasure. “Feels good,  _ ah, fuck _ —” he gasps as Zoro nears his prostate. “ _ Faster, right there, fuck _ —Zoro, don’t stop,” he shouts, sounding awful lot like begging in his ears but he no longer cared.  __

Releasing the iron control over his body, the man succumbs to his own desires by wildly plunging into Sanji. Gripping him by the waist, breath hitching as the pace picks up so suddenly, unexpectedly, he loses himself in the pleasures of Sanji’s body and his delicious cries that sounds like music in his ears. He thrusts hard and fast; Sanji stroking himself to match his pace, lost so deep in the black gaze of the man on top of him, nearing the edge that was so close to his grasp. “ _ Harder _ , Zoro,  _ fuck me harder _ ,” he demands this time, as Zoro’s hips work frantically to plunge into Sanji unforgivably, giving into those requests and his own carnal desires. 

A loud cry, as Sanji shudders violently for the second time, riding his climax and surrendering himself to the release; and Zoro, shortly following after him, groans deeply and comes inside of the blond. Lightheaded, relaxed, and feeling tender, he kneels down to kiss him slowly, lazily, and nipping teasingly at his bottom lip. 

They lay on the mat, slick with sweat, panting slightly from the workout they did. Tossing the worn condom aside, Zoro affectionately brushed the damp strands from Sanji’s face. Never had he felt better after coming down from the bliss of his orgasm, feeling utterly satisfied and content. Sanji reached for his cigarettes and lighter in his abandoned shorts that had crumpled on the side of the mat, smoking quietly on his back, head resting on the inner muscles of Zoro’s arm. In a comfortable silence, they enjoy the white noises streaming into their apartment; in each others’ presences that had simultaneously remained the same while changed drastically. 

“Who would’ve thought that I would have sex with Zoro Roronoa,” he thinks out loud, lips curling up into a grin. His ass is a bit sore from being stretched and rammed into, but he feels good. The sex was amazing—fun, comfortable, passionate, and thoughtful. Who would’ve thought? He wonders again. 

“What’s wrong with that?” the green haired man asks. “We always had some sexual tension between us.” 

Sanji snorts, “More like you harassing me every time I fell asleep.” 

He smirks, and perhaps he would’ve been ashamed if he didn't feel so enthralled and fascinated by the reality that Sanji feels the same about him. “I couldn’t help it, you’re so fucking hot,” he justifies himself as he rolls over to the side, finding the endearing nipple that had been irresistible; now, he is able to happily and playfully nibble and suck on them. 

Before Sanji, he's never had sex with anyone he had feelings for. In fact, he cared about no one as he was a master of keeping his body and heart separate. He never fell in love and nobody caught his interest besides physical attraction. Sanji was the only person whom he was willing to set aside his selfish needs for, drawing out the emotions that he thought had been caged away years ago.

“What do you want to do now?” the blond asks, chest rising and falling from the fat smoke he releases into the air.

Zoro, who had been preoccupied with the nub of his nipples, looks up with a soft, playful grin tugging at his lips. 

“Let’s play some Animal Crossing.” 


End file.
